If My Kilt Offends Ye
by AnyNameWillDo
Summary: In which Merida cannot sleep and Macintosh's kilt is offensive. Oneshot. Meritosh Originally posted here at 11.48pm August 1st: Prompted by:whatever-fangirl on Tumblr


Merida could not sleep. Restlessness filled her head. It was well past any acceptable time for a Queen to be awake, and yet here she was. She huffed to herself.

She needed sleep more than anything right now. Other then perhaps her mothers seemingly never-ending patience when dealing with lords and clansmen. It was like dealing with overtired babes who had swords.

The lairds were now true Lords. None of them the immature boys she met when they competed for her hand. Nay, they were all grown, still insufferable at times but gown indeed.

Having all of the clans was something that gave her amusement and joy, along with splitting headaches and a need for a new bed frame. A whinny broke her thoughts.

Angus.

If she went to visit maybe her brain would quieten down. She slipped out of her bed and cringed at the sight of her bedposts. The clans arrived yesterday and her bed frame was well aware. It was smooth before they came. Now it looked like a hyped up child had taken to it with an axe. She sighed as she pulled her night gown over her flimsy bed sheath. At least she gave the carpenters plenty of work.

She needed no light as she quietly snuck through the castle down to the stables. This is something she could do with a blindfold on. The cool stone walls calmed her slightly as she lightly dragged her fingertips across them. After a short cut or two she found herself at the doors to the stables.

The warmth of the hearth hit her as she slipped in through the doors. It gave a warm glow to the stable. The hearth itself was behind a grate filled with water and thin stone walls to make sure nothing caught light. To be sure one of the stable hands slept in a cot by the fire. She smiled fondly it was her oldest hand. He wouldn't wake for anything other then the animals screaming at him, or his wife shaking him awake.

Her clydesdale seemed to suffer her same restless lack of sleep. Entering his stall she grabbed his brush and started to run it through his mane. She leaned into his neck and relaxed as his familiar scent rolled over her.

"Now yer Majesty, if ye spend so much time on yer horse's mane then how do ye ever have time to tame that mane of yer's?" Merida prided herself on not jumping or letting out a sound. That voice she knew. Lately it did something funny to her. Something akin to shivers and goosebumps.

"Macintosh. Tha' is no way to speak to ye Queen." she threw a glance over her shoulder and her gaze flitted over the Lord's half exposed torso. Covering her glance with a wrinkle of her nose she continued on, "Ye should put on a shirt. How is it ye never seem to get sick if ye never wear a shirt, that kilt o yers cannae be doin much boyo."

She did not want to seem like she had noticed the way the light from the hearth. Only because she didn't. Her hands went back to grooming Angus and she turned her face from the lord. Away from his dark blue eyes, his dark lashes and his striking blue arm paint.

Not that it stopped her from hearing his footsteps as he approached. She was twice as restless now. She ken she shouldda stayed n her bed.

The door to Angus' stall creaked and she turned slightly so she could see better. The tall lord was leaning on the door elbows on the wood and hands clasped. His shoulders and forearms were now brought to her attention. And his mischievous smirk. That smirk brewed nothin but trouble. And butterflies in her stomach. She raised an eyebrow in response as she desperately tried not to follow the blue pattern on his arm.

The smirk grew larger, "If my kilt offends you, I can always take i' off." Merida had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping, and she was glad for the warmth. Maybe it would cover her blush. His face spoke volumes of temptation.

She was silent for a moment, shocked at his gall. And further shocked that his cheek actually did not offend her

"Nay yer kilt is not wha' offends me." She simply couldn't come up with anything wittier. Not when his hand was teasing at the leather strap holding his cape around his shoulders.

"No? Well this heat is offending me, so if ye don' mind…" He let it trail off as the strap snapped open and it left him completely topless. She gulped. She felt like his prey. His eyes were devouring her.

"Aye it is warm." He was entering the stall. By this point Angus was in the far corner. And macintosh was cornering her.

"Milady, ye ken sommatt ye said today didnae sit well wit' me." His accent was more pronounced. His voice far thicker and huskier then she had heard it. There was a flicker of something she couldna quite place.

"And what might that be m'lord?" Her voice was not as steady as she wished it were.

"That ye were considering that fools proposal." no sooner then his statement registered with her, his lips were on hers and one of his big hands around her waist. The other tangled in her hair as she whimpered into his mouth. He let out a guttural groan and pulled her against him. HIs hand somehow found its way into her night gown. She could feel the heat of his body through her night clothes.

His lips were hot and unrelenting. His teeth pulling her lower lip into his mouth to nibble on. She responded just as fiercely, her hands gripping his shoulders tight as her body pressed into his. He broke away from her lips to trail burning kisses down her throat, nipping at the junction of her neck and shoulders. Her hands were exploring his arms and the developed muscles she found there. He nipped at her clavicle making her gasp then licked the same spot, soothing it. She breathed in and found her hands in his hair pulling his face back up to hers.

One of the horses snuffled and a clanging sound was heard as one of the empty feed buckets fell on its side.

She let go of his hair immediately and they both separated quicker then lightening. Both of them were breathing heavily, chests heaving. She clutched her hand to her chest.

"Milady…" His voice was quiet and apologetic, almost pleading.

She muttered something that could have resembled a goodnight and slipped past him. Once she cleared the stable doors she ran all the way back to her chambers. Once inside the safety of her chamber doors she sank back onto the wood and caught her breath.

If she did sleep at all tonight she knew her dreams would be vivid and filled with dark blue eyes framed by dark lashes and hard unyielding muscles, warm kisses and his voice.


End file.
